


What Once Brought Comfort

by Andromedas_Void



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 18:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17533832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromedas_Void/pseuds/Andromedas_Void
Summary: “Are you sure you're not getting sick? Like, maybe it's the flu-or! Or, maybe it's Space Flu!” Hunk rambled. He paused, eyes growing wide. “Lance! I don't think we've been immunized for Space Flu!”“It's not space flu, Hunk. Jeez. I'm not sick, so stop worrying,” Lance said, waving a hand towards Hunk's face.





	What Once Brought Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing like getting into a fandom after the show is complete ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿
> 
> This is my first Voltron fic and also the first time (that I can think of) writing the Hanahaki trope. I hope you enjoy!

“Iverson said we need to 'bond' as a team so-” he cut himself off, a tickling in his throat had Lance letting out a quick cough or two, wiping at his lips with his back of his hand. “So, I say we grab Pidge, hit up the mall, and bond. What do you say? What?”

Hunk frowned. He pointed at his own face, beside his bottom lip. “Is that... have you been eating something with flowers in it?” he asked, curious. “Because, if you've found something around here with actual flavor and haven't told me, I might just have to call our friendship into question.”

Lance stared at him, blinking slowly. “What? No, I haven't been eating anything with flowers in it. And you know I would've told you if I had.” He leaned back, slapping at Hunk's hand when the older teen tried to reach over. “Dude, what the heck are you doing?”

“You have flower petals on your face,” Hunk replied, rubbing at his hand.

He wiped at his face again, feeling something similar to dead skin rolling under his fingers. Pulling the offending speck from his cheek, Lance paused, staring at the small purple petal, crumpled into a ball. “What the heck?”

Curious, Lance brought the petal to his nose and sniffed carefully. He could just barely detect a scent. “Lavender? Is that even edible?”

Hunk hummed and nodded. “Yeah, it's from the mint family,” he explained, taking the petal and examining it. He turned his squint to Lance. “You sure you're not holding out on me?”

“No, now c'mon.” Lance stood quickly, wiping at his face once more. “Let's grab Pidge and hit the town.”

–

'Hitting the town' hadn't gone exactly as planned.

There was a meteor crash which turned out to be a small unknown shuttle, the return of one of the missing crew members from the Kerberos mission, Lance's rival trying to take all the glory for himself, and a speeder chase through the desert.

Now, the group of four teens and one very unconscious adult were in a tiny two room shack in the desert. A shack that Keith seemed to know his way around very well. Lance shook the thought from his head and looked back to Shiro.

The man was still out on the messy couch. He had a shock of nearly pure white hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, and Lance didn't remember seeing it in any pictures of the guy, even the ones shown on the news reports when the word got back about the Kerberos mission. 'Pilot error', they had called it. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

Pidge had been watching the man closely, ever since they got him set up on the couch. Hunk was on the floor, back against the wall, eyes darting around the room, taking in all the papers tacked to the walls, trying to read them without being obvious. And Keith.

Keith was on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed tightly over his chest and intense eyes never once leaving Shiro's prone form. Lance didn't think the guy had relaxed for a single minute since they got there. If he even knew how to relax at all.

Lance let out a cough into his fist, clearing the itch from his throat. A single purple flower petal was on his knuckle when he pulled his hand back. He wiped it off on his jeans and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“So, what's up with that robot arm Shiro's rocking?” he asked the room.

Three pairs of eyes stared at him, mixed emotions in them.

“Oh, so I guess we're not gonna address that elephant in the room? Okay, then what about that ship?” Lance tried, taking his eyes off the sleeping man. “Even I know that wasn't one of our ships.”

“Why do you expect us to know any more than you?” Keith snapped. “We all got there at the same time. We all kno- Shiro?” A groan broke off Keith's tirade and he rushed over to the couch.

“My head.”

“Shiro, you're okay. You're on Earth,” Keith said, helping the man to sit up.

Shiro groaned again, rubbing at his damp hair, shoving it off his forehead. “Keith? How long was I out?”

“Your ship crashed about three hours ago,” Pidge told him, standing to the side of the couch.

“Three hours...” Shiro's words tapered off. He pulled his legs off the couch, sitting up properly, looking over the people in the shack. He sobered up quickly, eyes wide and jaw tense. “They're already on their way. They could be here any minute.”

“Uh, who could be here? The Garrison? Oh man, we're gonna be in so much trouble-”

“We need to find Voltron,” Shiro cut Hunk off. He shot up to his feet, far too hastily for his weak body to cope, and wavered slightly. Lance took a step forward, hands reaching out to catch him when Keith grabbed the older man by the arm, steadying him on his feet. “They know it's here and they're coming for it.”

“Who?” Keith asked, just as Pidge said, “Voltron? That word was mentioned in the radio chatter I picked up last night. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. And then we got chased by the Garrison through the desert, which was terrifying!” Hunk rushed out. “Do you remember that? Lance, I told you leaving was a bad idea.”

Lance waved a hand, dismissing the comment. “So, what's this Voltron, anyway?”

“I... I don't know,” Shiro said, despondent.

–

Wiping the dirt from the etching in the wall revealed a blocky cat. It was precisely cut into the rock, smooth lines and sharp angles dug deep and even. Lance jumped back when the drawing started to glow bright blue, filling the cave with its light. And the light of every other carving in the cave. A line snaked its way across the floor under their feet, circling them.

“They've never done that before,” Keith said behind him, awe and trepidation evident in his voice.

The next noise was the sound of a crack thundering through the cave. The ground gave way, shattering into large chunks of sharp rocks.

Lance remembered screaming, the ground sliding away underneath him, rushing water soaking him through his clothes, then falling through the air. The wind was knocked out of him upon impact with the ground, water splashing around him, filling his ears, his nose, his mouth.

He managed to roll over in the shallow pool, hearing more splashes around him, and coughed, spitting out the water.

“Has it ever done _that_ before?” he spat, turning his glare onto Keith.

“No,” the other teen grunted, rubbing at his shoulder.

“Uh, guys,” Hunk started, drawing their attention, “you gotta see this.”

A lion, massive and blue and _mechanical_ , sat before them. “Whoa.” Lance stood and stared in awe, the five of them drifting closer to the machine. A clear blue barrier surround the lion and Lance watched as Keith stepped up to it, running his palms over it.

“Wonder how it opens?” he asked, looking up at the lion.

“Mabe you gotta knock,” Lance grinned, giving the barrier a few good knocks with his knuckles.

The barrier shifted, vanishing in seconds and the group took a few steps back, Hunk yelping.

Turning his head up, Lance watched as the lion dropped its own head, mouth opening seamlessly.

“It's gonna eat us!” Hunk whined.

Lance rolled his eyes, hearing Pidge try to console his friend. A platform folded out from the front of the mouth and Lance stepped onto it, heading in with a sly grin.

“Lance, come back,” Shiro scolded. “We don't know what this thing is.”

He ignored the words. 

Slipping through a doorway, Lance let out a whistle. A chair sat in the middle of the cockpit - at least he assumed it was a cockpit. He could hear the others follow him inside as he sat in the seat. It wasn't the most comfortable but he could deal with it.

“Wow, this is so cool!” Pidge exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Lance smirked, folding his ankle over his knee and leaning back in the seat, “it is pretty-wah! Whoa!”

The seat shot forward, Lance's feet dropping quickly to the floor to prevent his knees from smashing into the console. It stopped short when he gripped the two controllers in front of the arm rests and the small room lit up. Holo-panels flickered on, floating above the metal console.

“What's happening?” Hunk's voice wavered as he came up on Lance's left side. “I can't read any of this stuff. Is this an alien space ship, er lion?”

“I guess so,” Pidge answered, bending down to try and decipher the symbols on the screen closest to them. “I wonder how long it's been on Earth.”

Lance skimmed his eyes over the holo-panel in front of him, fingers on his chin. He tapped a few of the buttons and the lion let out a roar. “Alright!” He grasped the controllers again and shoved them forward.

“What did you do?!” Keith yelled. He rushed over, just barely grabbing onto the seat back before the lion took off, busting its way through the rocks above and out into the daylight.

“I barely did anything! This lion moves way better than the simulator,” Lance grinned. A twist of his wrist had the lion barrel rolling through the air.

An alarm blared through the cockpit, five sets of eyes snapping over as a new screen popped up to Lance's left. 

“It's them,” Shiro said, voice tight. “It has to be the Galra.”

“Galra? W-what's that? What are the Galra? Are they aliens? Are we being invaded?!” Hunk wailed. He latched onto Lance's arm as he spoke, voice getting higher with every word. “Lance, do something!”

“I'm trying!” he shouted back, trying and failing to jerk his arm away. “We gotta lead them away from Earth.” He pushed the lion's thrusters harder, shooting up into the upper atmosphere in seconds. They passed by the moon, a huge, dark grey ship tailing them.

“Where are we?” Keith asked after a moment, brow drawn in as he watched a planet drift passed.

“That's Kerberos,” Pidge gasped, pointing out the glass. “We're at the edge of the solar system, but that's impossible!”

Hunk shook Lance's arm. “Uh. Guys, what's that? Is that a wormhole?! Where are you taking us, Lance?!” he cried.

“I'm not taking us anywhere,” Lance countered, eyeing up the strange swirl of light in the blackness of space ahead of them. “The lion is doing all this.”

“What do you mean?” Shiro asked.

Lance heard the man's cyborg alien hand – because what else could it be? - hum softly as he shifted behind the seat. “I mean, the lion is the one calling the shots and she says we need to go in there,” he explained, pointing to the swirl. “I-I think she's trying to go home.”

“Where is the lion's home?” Keith asked, frowning.

“Guess we're about to find out,” Shiro replied. “Take us through, Lance.”

Lance nodded and urged the lion on, straight for the wormhole.

–

“What is this place?” Pidge wondered aloud, walking into the center of the circular room. A small pedestal sat in the middle, surrounded by small rings on the floor, forming a wider circle. They poked at the flat surface of the pedestal but nothing happened. “Maybe it's broken.”

A soft hiss of air filled the room and the group turned. One of the smaller circles raised from the floor, revealing a pod, half made of glass, half metal. A young woman stood inside, asleep.

A second hiss of air and the glass vanished in the blink of an eye. The woman reached out, losing her balance as she stepped from the pod. [“Father!”]

Lance caught her around the middle, keeping her on her feet. “Why, hello,” he smiled when she turned her face up to him.

[“Your ears?”] she said and Lance threw a glance over to the others in his group.

“Uh.”

[“What's wrong with them? They're hideous,”] she went on, frowning deeply at him.

“Yeah, I don't know what you're sayin-Ow! Ow!” Lance yelped. He was forced to the floor, the breath swiftly knocked from his lungs. The woman had a strong grip on both his ear and his arm, tugging the former up tightly along his back. “Uncle! Uncle!”

“Hey! Let him go!” Keith shouted.

[“Where is my father?”] the woman demanded, grip tightening sharply.

Lance winced, tears in his eyes as he stared at the others. “Get her off me!” He watched as Shiro threw his arm in front of Keith, the teen reaching behind his back. Pidge and Hunk stood far away, watching the scene unfold with a mix of terror and confusion. Msotly terror on Hunk's part.

“Miss, calm down,” Shiro said, holding his hands out, trying to placate the woman. “We don't understand you. Can you understand us?”

She watched them, Lance feeling her shift her position over him. A knee dug into his spine and he whimpered. His arm felt numb from the pressure. They heard a hiss as a second pod opened, an older man stumbling out.

[“Princess! Watch out!”] he yelled, rushing over. His legs buckled, sending him into the floor.

[“Coran, who are these people? Where is father?”] the woman asked.

“Can someone get her off me? I feel like she's gonna break my arm,” Lance whined, flexing his fingers as best he could.

She stood and hurried over to the center console, placing her hands on it. Holo-panels appeared under her fingers, hovering slightly.

“So, that's how that works,” Pidge mumbled, watching as the woman stared at the screens, eyes widening with fear.

Lance grumbled, hissing when Shiro helped him to his feet. He rubbed at his sore arm, holding his elbow. “I'm okay. I don't think it's broken,” he said softly, trying to not attract either aliens' attention.

[“No. This can't be right,”] the woman frowned. She turned back to the other alien and Lance thought she looked like she was near tears. [“Coran, we've been asleep for ten thousand deca-phoebs! Altea is gone!”] She turned her eyes to their group, tone and eyes turning harsh. [“Who are you and how did you get in here?”]

“Like we said,” Keith started, hand waving between his chest and the woman, “we can't understand what you're saying. We don't speak the same language.”

[“Princess, the translators,”] the older alien said. [“I don't think they can understand Altean.”]

There was a few seconds of silent staring between the two aliens before the woman nodded briskly. She pressed her hand back to the console and a small panel opened. They watched as she took two small devices from the compartment. With a hard stare, she walked over, back straight and shoulders tense.

Lance and Hunk took a step away from her, trying to hide behind Shiro without it being obvious.

She held out one of the devices to Shiro. 

He frowned down at it as it was dropped into his cyborg hand. From Lance's perspective, it looked like a miniature hearing aid. 

The woman placed the device still in her own hand in her ear and Shiro followed her example. [“I am Princess Allura of Altea. How did you get inside this castle? Explain yourselves,”] she ordered.

Lance looked between the alien and Shiro, still not understanding her words. Shiro's raised eyebrows and the sharp breath the took though, told the teen he did.

“I am Takashi Shirogane and we-a blue mechanical lion brought us here. Do you know anything about it, or Voltron?” he replied.

[“Voltron? You found and piloted a lion of Voltron?”] she blinked.

“What is she saying?” Lance whispered to Pidge. “I heard her say 'Voltron' but everything else was all alien gibberish.”

Pidge turned a flat stare up at Lance, keeping their voice low. “Why do you think I can understand her?”

Lance shrugged, “Because you're smart and probably speak, like, a thousand languages?”

“I speak three and those are human languages,” they whispered. “I don't speak any alien languages.”

Hunk nudged him in the ribs and he glanced over to his friend. He stood up straight when he spotted the other alien standing near them, hand held out. Four more of the little translators were in his palm. He gave them a smile and nod.

Lance carefully took a translator and pinched it between his fingers. Now that he had a closer look, it was more like a watch battery than a hearing aid. He wasn't sure how it would stay in his ear but he pressed it in anyway. The alien gibberish quickly morphed into English and a collective gasp left the group of teens.

“Wow, this is so cool,” Pidge exclaimed, finger still pressed to their ear. “It's like a universal translator that works in real time!”

“Coran,” the woman said, “we must find the other lions immediately.”

The older alien, Coran, gave a quick nod. “Yes, Princess.” The two aliens made their way towards the door, the woman looking back over her shoulder.

“Follow me,” she insisted.

“A princess, huh?” Lance hummed. “I'd follow you anywhere.”

Hunk groaned beside him and Lance threw him a grin.

–

“Are you sure you're not getting sick? Like, maybe it's the flu-or! Or, maybe it's Space Flu!” Hunk rambled. He paused, eyes growing wide. “Lance! I don't think we've been immunized for Space Flu!”

“It's not space flu, Hunk. Jeez. I'm not sick, so stop worrying,” Lance said, waving a hand towards Hunk's face.

The incredulous look Hunk gave him had Lance twitching, fighting down another cough. “Lance, you've been coughing for, like, four days now. Don't think I haven't noticed,” he told him.

Lance turned his eyes back to the small tablet in his hand, ignoring the comment and Hunk's stare. “Maybe it's just the stale air of the castle. Allura did say it's been ten thousand deca-phoebs, whatever that means, since anyone even entered it.” He cleared his throat, rubbing his adam's apple lightly. “Once the castle has been aired out, it'll clear up in no time!”

“So, you admit you're sick,” Hunk prodded.

“It's just a cough, Hunk. I'm not dying,” Lance groaned. He dropped his head back to the couch, wincing when it thunked against the hard material.

–

The tablet pinged back with its results, links for several alien books showing up on the screen. Lance tapped on the first in the list. The page translated itself into English, albeit a little broken at times, and he started to read.

_Spores of Numexia and Their Effect on the Body._ As good a place as any to start, although he didn't think they had been to a planet called Numexia yet.

The illustrations in the book sent full body shivers through him and he desperately hoped he wasn't infected with something that would worm its way into his brain and sprout out through his skull, turning him into a living – or not so living at that point - greenhouse.

He closed the tab quickly. 

Pouting out his lip, Lance sunk lower onto his bed, chin resting against his collarbone. He scrolled up and down the list, watching the words fly over the screen and reading none of them, before closing his eyes and poking a link at random. Hopefully it wouldn't be as traumatizing as the first. 

The symbols on the page, before they shifted, looked vaguely familiar, almost like they were from an Earth language, but it was gone so fast, he didn't have enough time to really look. He sat up as he read, skimming over the article as keywords caught his eye.

_Pain in the lungs, throat, and heart._

_Flower petals are the most common obstruction, accompanied with blood and/or bile as symptoms progress._

_They are typically, but not limited to, ones the afflicted has a fondness for._

_The lungs and heart fill with the stems and leaves of the flowers until afflicted can no longer breathe and slowly suffocates._

_Only known cure is for the afflicted's affections to be returned._

“Affections?” Lance muttered, fingers curled over his lips. “Does it mean... love?” He let out a loud groan and dropped back to his bed, pillow sinking underneath his head. The tablet fell to the bed, screen casting a warm orange glow on the ceiling. “Aw man.”

He started to think back, wondering when his feelings had progressed into love. He had had plenty of crushes before, even way back in elementary school, but none ever resulted with him puking up flowers. There wasn't a definite time he could pinpoint so he figured it must have been around when his cough started because his crush had formed long before then.

The tickling in his throat came back, burning slightly, and he rolled to his side, coughing into the pillowcase. The familiar purple flower petals stared back at him, sitting in a small glob of phlegm. He pulled a face at the sight.

Sitting up once more, Lance ripped the pillowcase off in agitation, balling it up and hurling it to the corner of his room. He'd deal with it in the morning.

–

“So, Lance, how's the Space Flu?” Hunk asked casually.

“Space flu?” Pidge's eyes widened at the words. They adjusted their glasses and gave Lance a thrice over, leaning forward.

Lance groaned, ignoring the twinge in his chest. “Hunk, how many times do I have to say I don't have space flu,” he whined. “It's just the stale castleship air.”

“We've been in the castleship for almost a month. I think it's plenty aired out,” Hunk countered.

“What are your symptoms?” Pidge asked, already typing on their laptop. “Exact symptoms.”

The teen let out another annoyed groan, listing to his side until he was sprawled out on the couch. The top of his head brushed against Hunk's thigh. “It's a cough, Pidge. Nothing more, nothing-.”

“What about those flower petals?” Hunk cut in. He had leaned over, resting on his hand on the cushion near Lance's shoulder.

Lance frowned, opening one eye to glare at Hunk. The twinge started to burn and he swallowed, willing it to stop.

“What? Did you think I wouldn't notice you keep coughing them up and hiding it?” Hunk asked. “C'mon, Lance. What kind of friend would I be if I don't notice when you're sick? A bad one, that's what kind.”

“You're coughing up flowers?”

“I'm not sick,” Lance insisted, glowering at the two. 

Hunk and Pidge merely stared back, eyebrows raising slowly as they waited.

“Fine, yes. I'm coughing up flowers. And before you even think of suggesting it,” he sat up quickly, pointing an accusing finger at both of them, “it's not alien spores or some bullshit like that. It's been happening since before we left Earth. I'm handling it.” The cough that ripped its way from his lungs stated the exact opposite.

He leaned forward, hand cupped over his mouth as he cough roughly into his palm. Hunk had a hand on his back, rubbing his shaking shoulders gently, and Pidge had shifted a few inches closer on the couch, laptop abandoned on the seat.

He hacked, clearing his throat. A tissue appeared in front of his face, Pidge shaking it lightly until he took it, spitting into it. He folded the tissue up, refusing to even take a peek at the lavender petals he knew would rest inside.

Letting out a hoarse breath, Lance leaned back, feet dropping heavily to the floor. Hunk's hand was momentarily trapped between his back and the couch. “Look,” he started, rubbing at his prickling throat, “just-don't tell anyone about this, okay? I didn't wanna worry anyone but it's not serious,” he lied. _Unless you consider possible death via flowers filling up my lungs serious._ He didn't voice his thoughts, stubbornly pushing them back. “Really, I can handle it.”

Neither Pidge nor Hunk looked convinced but they gave him a silent nod, letting the matter drop.

–

“He doesn't look so good,” Pidge whispered. Their eyes darted over to Shiro, reading his vitals as the cryo-pod worked on healing his damaged and malnourished body.

Lance crossed his arms loosely over his stomach, holding onto the elbows of his jacket. “What do you think happened to him?” he asked, even though he feared the answer. 

Shiro had been missing since the fight with Zarkon. Keith had dragged the black lion back to the castleship, Shiro completely unresponsive to any of their comms. When Keith had finally managed to pry the lion's jaws open, they found the cockpit empty. The black bayard was in the bayard port and the only indication that the black paladin even having been in the lion.

It had taken nearly two months of searching. Keith took up the position as the black paladin – the only person the lion even responded to – with Lance replacing him and Allura in the blue lion, fighting the new Galran threat known as Prince Lotor, but they had finally, _finally_ , gotten a signal. Just the tiniest little blip that the black lion picked up.

He had been near death when Keith found the small ship the former paladin was in. Any longer and he wouldn't have...

Lance shook the thought from his head violently, coming back to the present. Allura had been speaking, paying him no immediate attention.

“...few quintants, a movement at the most,” she said, soft, tried eyes turning to the group. “We should get some rest.” She started for the door, placing her hand on Lance's should briefly. She gave him a wane yet reassuring smile and left.

–

Specks of blood stained the bright white of the sink, stained the lavender, no longer just petals but fully formed flowers. Lance's chest burned like it was on fire, his throat tight, threatening to close off completely. He turned the tap on, cupping his hand under the stream, and rinsed his mouth of the taste. The blood swirled down the drain, taunting him, taking the flowers with it. 

Their scent lingered.

Lavender used to calm him, once, long ago when they were still on Earth. He'd use an oil burner when he was having trouble sleeping, when nightmares about flunking out of the Garrison, among other things, plagued him. Lavender had always been special to him. Just catching a whiff of its scent used to have his tense shoulders dropping, his heart rate steadying, his thoughts finally collecting. But now?

Now the scent of the small purple flowers had his stomach twisting into knots, his throat constricting, his lungs clenching painfully tight.

He had smelled it in the training deck just over a movement ago. He had been preparing to get some target practice in before dinner, work up an appetite, when it hit him.

It was strong, over-poweringly so, and Lance had to scrabble to cling to the wall, hand over his mouth as a wave of nausea came over him. He swallowed thickly, tears pricking at his closed eyes.

He fled from the room, all thoughts of practicing gone in an instant.

–

“-be Allura. He said it started before we found the blue lion.”

Lance paused, hand on the wall near the door control. He could hear Hunk talking, clearly about him and his... illness. He wanted to turn away, to run, but his legs felt like lead, refusing to even budge as he listened.

“Someone from the Garrison then?” Pidge asked. 

There was a low hum. “I can't think of anyone,” Hunk replied. “Contrary to popular belief, Lance was actually pretty focussed on his studies.”

He heard Pidge let out a snort before laughing. His fingers brushed against the control panel without him noticing and the door slid open with a soft whish.

“L-lance! Uh, hey buddy,” Hunk stammered, standing up quickly from his place on the floor.

Pidge had schooled their face when Lance glanced over but their eyebrows shot up instantly, mouth dropping open. “Lance, you look like-”

“Shit, yeah. Thanks, Pidge,” he deadpanned. He walked into the room, barely registering the door closing behind him, and dropped into the closest chair. His head rolled back onto the headrest and his eyes slipped closed, a deep sigh leaving him.

“Is it getting worse?” Hunk asked hesitantly.

“I'm fine,” Lance said quietly. A moment of silence passed before he heard the shifting of bodies.

“We've done some research and... we think we know what's wrong with you,” Hunk started. His hand came down on Lance's knees, squeezing gently. “And, if it's what we think it is, then you gotta come clean. Lance, we care about you. All of us care about you.”

Lance frowned. He pulled his head up and looked between the two before scoffing, trying in vain to brush off their words. “Nothing's wrong with me.”

“You're dying because you won't admit you're in love with someone,” Pidge countered, angry tone startling Lance into flinching. “How is that 'nothing'?”

He didn't respond.

“So, it's true then?” Hunk asked. 

Lance hated how small his voice sounded and he shut his eyes. His hands twisted in his lap, only stilling when another pair of hands, smaller, obviously Pidge's, grabbed them.

Hunk sighed, the crate he had moved to creaking softly as he sat back. “There must be something we can do. Like, I know the articles said there's only one cure but-” He gritted his teeth. “What about if we send a message to Earth? Like, hear me out. We get Lance to send a message with his confession to-”

“He's not on Earth,” Lance cut him off. “And he's got more than enough on his plate at the minute. He doesn't need my dumb feelings fucking up his concentration or whatever.”

Pidge and Hunk blinked silently at him and Lance rubbed at his face, head falling back again. 

“It can wait until after this whole war is over,” he finished, hand waving lazily. “I'll tell him when neither of us are stressed out and stretched to our limits. I'm not so far gone that I'll just keel over in the next varga or two.”

“You said it started before we left Earth,” Hunk pointed out carefully.

“I know what I said.” His eyes foccused on Hunk before sliding away. He knew that look. The one that told him that Hunk had figured things out. It was a look he had never hated until that very second.

“What if you don't survive that long?” Pidge argued, smacking their fist into their open palm. “We don't know how long this war will go on for! Lotor is always one step ahead of us! What if we're fighting for years?! What if you-”

“Pidge, calm down.” Hunk placed a hand on their shoulder, causing them to glare, eyes narrowed. He turned back to Lance. “They're right though. You should tell him before it gets worse.”

Lance stared at the floor, Hunk's right foot just within his line of sight.

“He doesn't hate you, if that's what you're worried about,” Hunk said softly, taking Lance's hand in his.

“I'm aware and it's not.” He slid his hand from the loose hold, standing. “I'm gonna go take a nap,” he muttered, turning without another word.

–

“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” Keith yelled. His helmet clattered to the hanger floor and Lance's attention snapped to him.

The door to Red's hanger was still wide open and he could hear more people running down the hallway.

Lance felt his lungs constrict, the flowers threatening to show their faces. He swallowed the feeling down.

“You nearly got Pidge and yourself killed!” Keith came to a halting stop in front of him, hands clenched tightly at his sides, fists shaking. 

“I saved Pidge out there!” he snapped, snatching his own helmet off. “They were out in the open while _you_ ,” he jabbed his finger into Keith's armor plate, “were chasing after Lotor!” 

Keith slapped his hand away. His eyes narrowed for a brief second, a small cough slipping out.

“There was still a whole battalion shooting at us and you were flying off in the wrong direction!” Lance continued. He had to fight down a cough of his own, throat going tight and dry.

“We need to stop Lotor!” Keith said. His voice had gone hoarse.

Lance caught sight of Pidge and Hunk running towards the hanger, Shiro and Allura not far behind them. His eyes went back to Keith just as his body started to shake, a hand clamped over his mouth.

A wet cough escaped his throat and Lance reached out, taking him by the shoulders.

“Keith, dude. We're all safe, don't get yourself worked up,” he said, softening his tone.

The coughs intensified as the rest of the group finally reached him. Keith's legs gave out from underneath him as he retched into his gloved hand. Lance went down with him, trying to ease him to the floor. Blood splashed onto the white of Lance's armor, dripping down over his left thigh to his knee. Keith's hand fell from his mouth, clenching tightly on the floor near Lance's knee as he vomitted again, more blood covering their armor and the floor below.

Blood and little purple flowers.

Lance froze at the sight, fingers tightening on Keith's shoulders. He felt the weight leave his hands as the paladin was pulled away, Shiro carefully picking Keith up. He glanced up in time to see the former paladin and Allura running from the room, but their words were drowned out by the shrill ringing in his ears.

“-nce, C'mon, buddy.”

He turning his head to the voice, staring numbly at Hunk. The feeling rushed back to his body when his friend picked him up off the floor.

“We gotta check on Keith,” Pidge told him, hurrying along ahead of them.

He nodded and followed Hunk, the other keeping a steadying hand on his elbow. His eyes trailed down as they walked, watching the blood streak down his armor. The sight had Lance picking up his speed and the three were running down the hallways.

“...before in the training deck.” Shiro's voice was filled with fear but he kept it steady as he spoke. “I think it might be a spore, something that may have invaded his lungs on a mission.”

Keith was already stripped of his outer armor, leaving only the black undersuit when the three entered the room, Allura turning to watch them for a few ticks.

“It is possible,” Coran nodded. He helped place Keith in the cryo-pod, the glass closing over the second he was out of the way. “I'll have to check the library-”

“It's not a spore,” Lance said. He cleared his throat when every eye in the room turned to him. 

While Hunk and Pidge shared a look of concern and sympathy, Shiro, Allura, and Coran had varying degrees of confusion painted on their faces. 

Turning his eyes away from everyone and back to the floor, Lance pinched his lips together, willing the fire in his lungs to die down. “It's called,” he paused, trying to remember what the article had called it. “Hanahaki, I think.”

Shiro's confusion only increased and he looked over to Keith, asleep in the pod. Blood still soaked into the collar and glove of his undersuit. He turned back to Lance, waiting silently.

“It's-” he waved a hand out by his hip and tilted his head, “it's something humans get if they haven't told a person they love them. At least, I think it's just a human thing.”

Hunk's hand touched his shoulder and the tried to clear his throat again. The burn only got worse.

“How do we cure it?” Shiro asked.

Lance shook his head, letting out a quiet cough into his hand.

Pidge spoke up, giving Lance a few pats on the back. “According to the research Hunk and I have done, there's only one cure. A confession. If he doesn't tell whomever it is before it gets worse, then-” They took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Then the flowers will fill his lungs and heart and suffocate him.”

The room fell silent save for Lance's coughs. He felt the bile rising in his throat. He caught it in his glove.

“Lance?” Allura asked, voice soft and close. “Are you alright?”

Looking to the woman, Lance gave her a weak grin. “Yeah, but I'm in the same boat,” he murmured. His hand dropped to his side, a few of the petals dripping to the floor, traces of blood and vomit coating them. He glanced to the pod then back down to Keith's blood on his armor. 

There was so much more blood than flowers. His hand twitched, wanting to wipe it away.

He resisted.

–

Hunk shifted on the bed, feet tangled up in the covers. Pidge clung to the pillow, their chin resting heavily on it. Lance rubbed his back against the edge of the bed, adjusting but not quite getting comfortable.

Keith had been in the cryo-pod for nearly four vargas and no one was talking about the elephant in the castleship.

No one, until Hunk opened his mouth.

“He seems pretty far into the disease,” he said, aiming for casual.

Pidge bit their lip and Lance pulled his knees up. 

He could still smell the lavender lingering on his skin, seeping into his clothes. He stretched his legs out, fighting the urge to puke from the smell.

Keith had the same flower, the same damned sickness that Lance had. His mind drifted, wondering what lavender meant to the other paladin.

“How did none of us even notice he was sick?” Hunk asked the room. “There's only seven people on the castleship, not including the mice. Someone had to have noticed before.”

“Shiro did say it happened before,” Pidge said, muffled by the pillow.

Lance paused, brow furrowed.

“He said he'd found Keith in the training deck, puking up flowers with the gladiator over him. He had to end the sequence because Keith could barely stay upright,” they explained. “He also said Keith refused to go to the cryo-pod.”

“That sounds like Keith,” Lance huffed out a small laugh. “Dude pukes up flowers and tries to brush it off. Classic Keith.”

Hunk nudged his head with his foot and Lance rolled his head back onto the bed, looking up at him. “Sounds a lot like another stubborn person we know. Right, Pidge?”

Pidge made a show of thinking, pouting out their lip, eyes on Lance. “Now, Hunk. I don't think _anyone_ would be dumb enough to try to hide the fact that they're sick from their friends.”

Lance rolled his eyes, ignoring the barb. He sighed and Hunk nudged his head again. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you guys earlier,” he muttered. 

“I wonder who Keith likes anyway? I don't think I've really seen him show interest in-”

“Well!” Lance said loudly, stretching his arms over his head. “Today has been a real downer so I'm gonna hit the hay.”

He ignored the looks both Pidge and Hunk threw at him, stepping out of the room and heading down the hall.

A wave of nausea hit him when he entered his own room and Lance leaned back against the closed door, breathing through his open mouth. He slid down to the floor, eyes closed, and waited for the feeling to pass.

He doubled over when his throat closed off, trying and failing to catch his breath. His vision doubled and blurred. The stench of lavender clogged his senses, cocooning him with their once calming presence.

–

“Lance? Holy shit!”

He tried to place the voice, the cool air of the hallway rushing past his overheated skin. He could feel the metal floor under his cheek, unforgiving and solid. When had he lied down?

“Lance? What happened?” the voice asked. Hands grabbed at his arm, tugging his body up. “Wake up!”

He groaned at that. He was awake. He shoved at the hands but they didn't budge. Instead, they tugged harder and he was on his feet, wobbly and unsteady and ready to drop back down to the floor. He cracked his eyes open, keeping them narrowed. 

He was still in his room. A small pool of blood, flowers, and what he guessed was undigested food goo was splattered on the floor. He spotted a few drops on the sleeve of his shirt. 

A pair of boots was the next thing he saw before he was placed on the soft mattress. A face came into his field of vision and he refused to admit how long it took his brain to finally supply a name.

Keith held him up by the shoulders, kneeling on the floor. When Lance took a breath, as deep as he could, and drew his shoulders back, he let go, sitting back on his heels.

They sat in silence for a few ticks and Lance swallowed, throat dry and mouth tasting of lavender and bile. He almost puked again.

“Shiro told me about the disease,” Keith said. 

He was staring at Lance when he looked up. It was too much for Lance and he looked back down to his lap.

“He told me you're the one who explained it to everyone,” Keith pressed on. “And that a confession is the only cure?”

Lance nodded at the question. 

He toyed with the idea of coming clean right then and there. There was no way Keith wasn't aware he was also sick, having found Lance in a pool of his own blood and flowers. He wondered how Keith would react to the confession. Would he accept it? Would he reject him and leave? Let him down easy and go on like nothing happened? Lance thinks he could live with that. Although 'live' isn't exactly the right word.

“I'm in love with you.”

Lance froze. After a few ticks of silence, he let out a short laugh. “Did Hunk put you up to this?”

“What? What does Hunk have to do with this?” Keith asked. He saw the other teen's hands tense on his knees. “Lance?”

He could hear the realization in Keith's voice instantly and flushed.

“Lance? Is it me?”

“Ugh, fine!” Lance groaned, rubbing at his face, muffling his voice. He let out another laugh at the incredulous nature of the situation. “Yes, it's you! You're the one I'm apparently in love with and have been puking up flowers over. Happy?”

“Yes, actually,” Keith said straight faced. “I-I mean, not the whole puking up flowers part, obviously,” he backtracked. “I'm not happy about that.”

Lance chuckled and a wet cough left him. No flowers ended up in his palm. 

A promising sign.

“I swear to fuck, if this ends up being a jo-dude!” he yelped, shoving Keith away with a laugh. “Don't try to kiss me, I just finished puking! At least let a guy brush his teeth first.”

Keith laughed at that, sitting back on the floor. “Okay, okay. And maybe a shower while you're at it,” he teased. “You stink of lavender and vomit.”

Lance waved a hand towards him, shooing Keith away from the bed so he could stand on only slightly shaky legs. “Yeah, yeah. And you probably stink of the cryo-pod.” He walked over to the bathroom door and paused, fingers hovering over the control panel. “Hey, Keith?”

“Hmm?” The other teen had taken a place on Lance's bed.

“Why lavender? I know for me it was always a scent that was comforting when I was a kid,” he said, watching as Keith raised his eyebrows at the information. “But what about you?”

Keith dropped his head, hands in his lap, and Lance saw his ears turn bright pink. “Um, you always smelled like it at the Garrison so I-I guess... it reminded me of you.”

Lance's face turned so hot at the simple statement that he swore he was going to burst into flames. Forget suffocating from flowers in his chest, he was just going to turn to ash right then and there.


End file.
